In Love With a Ghost
by Hijinata
Summary: In Love With a Ghost Is a story detailing the life of Cole Brookstone after what seems to be the end of the human race.


In Love With a Ghost  
Chapter One: Down the River Bend

* * *

 _Follow the river._

He wasn't sure what prompted it this time, but there was an uneasy feeling beginning to swell in his stomach.

 _Follow the river._

The feeling grew stronger, claiming his chest, _tightening_ it.

 ** _Follow the river._**

He kept repeating those words as if somehow, _they'd save him_. As if somehow it would stop the pain and the convulsions rupturing in his chest. As if somehow, his friends would be waiting for him just around the river bend, safe, unharmed, unaffected by the world around them… _like they promised_.

But they were never there. Never around the corner. Never within sight. They only ever were an _elusive dream_.

When it became too difficult to breathe, he stopped. _'Stop running. Stop thinking.'_ He told himself, and he desperately wanted to do so. But the preservation of these two actions had kept him alive up until this point. The thoughts, the repetitiveness in thinking; _they_ kept him going, pushing him further and further along the river and deeper into the forest.

But they too, were slowly killing him. The immediacy of their effect was not clear, though now he could see how his thoughts were beginning to eat away at his mind, and _physically_ at his heart.

The boulder near him served as a benchmark to how far he'd come. Thankful for its presence, he laid down to rest his head against it. And, now, it would serve as his resting place— _or so he thought_. With the convulsions still rupturing in his chest, he knew it was only a matter of time before he succumbed to the pain, before he finally let go of everything.

And, he was okay with that.

Above him the sky lay overcast. Cool air blew at his cheeks, and he knew the rain was on its way when his black curls began to frizz. If these were his final moments, at least he could enjoy the rain which was so scarce nowadays.

Droplets began to cascade from the sky above, lightly drizzling on his face. _'What an honor,'_ he thought, _'_ _to lay here in the rain.'_ Ten minutes passed and the swelling in his chest finally subsided, at least enough for him to move again. Though the pain lingered he mustered enough strength to carry on. So away from the river he went, knowing just how easily it could flood in a storm. Eventually, he found himself pacing along an empty road, walking, thinking once more in a repetitive cycle. What had become of his friends?

 **He had just** **returned home from his trip.** The jaunt to the High Sierra Mountains left him feeling **_frustrated_** to say the least. Frustrated, because he couldn't beat his record time in reaching the summit. Frustrated, because he thought he charged his phone on the hike home but now it wasn't even flashing on. Frustrated, because he had _just_ replaced it and the damn thing was already broken.  
Sure, he dropped it down the mountain a few times, but it looked alright to him. **_So why wasn't it working?  
_** Through an unnecessarily aggressive twist, he unlocked the door to the small apartment he shared with his friends. They lived in the suburbs, where the most extraordinary sight to behold was only ever a few clouds suspended in the sky. _They_ _ **were**_ _in a drought after all_.  
But that didn't matter to him now. All he could think of was taking a nice long shower to cleanse his body of the dirt, and of the negative thoughts swirling around in his head. After slamming the door behind him and inevitably tossing his things onto the floor in his bedroom, he made his way towards the shower.  
The hushed kenopsia of the apartment should have been his first clue that something was amiss. Heck, even his obviously loud intrusions should have been a strong indicator of this. Normally, the place was abuzz with activity; someone was always running around doing college projects, or playing loud video games, making messes, etc. And yet, the halls were silent. Even his closest friend, who was such a chatterbox and never failed to greet anyone at the door, _was silent_.  
Rather than arouse his suspicions, the dark haired man considered himself lucky and was in reality, quite thankful for the silence. For once, he could shower in peace.  
Living with three of your best friends always made it challenging to get in some time for yourself; sure, it was always amusing to see what shenanigans they'd get themselves into, but some personal time every now and then was welcomed.  
So he took his time, instead deciding to draw out a bath for himself upon realizing what a rare opportunity he had. He even popped in one of the other's fancy 'bath bombs.' It was a pretty little thing, green and mixed with a few speckles of gold.  
He felt his body melt into the back of the tub as the bomb fizzled away…

Sometime later the man awoke, his skin having grown pruny from the bath. It was time to get out. So he dried himself off, put on some clean clothes, and dug around the kitchen for some food. But when he went to the fridge for cake, he noticed the light hadn't turned on. Guess he would have to, along with his phone, _fix that later._  
 _But this should have been his second clue._  
It was only after he had noticed the light, and only after he had grabbed his cake, that he finally realized something was wrong.  
On the back of the cake container, a yellow note laid. All it read was:  
 _"_ _Follow the river, you'll find us." -Lloyd._

 **A loud** ** _BOOM_** **erupted overhead,** immediately pulling him from his thoughts. **Thunder** crashed and cackled as if it were threatening his very existence. He hurried himself along, urgently searching for shelter before the downpour came. The exigency of the situation pushed him to make rash decisions, so the moment he found a car he wedged his shoelaces between the window and frame. A giant metal cube may not serve as the best means for shelter during a lightning storm, but at the very least it would keep him dry. With no one around to stop him, he used the shoelaces to latch a slipknot around the lock and pull it out, freeing the door and rushing himself inside just before the heavens began to cry.  
The inside was chilling, and he felt stupid for **_not noticing the keys still locked in the ignition_**.  
But at least he wouldn't have to freeze. A simple twist and he waited for the car to turn on.  
But there was no roar.  
Only silence and the coarse pitter patter of the rain just beginning to pour.  
Through gritted teeth he thumped the car horn.  
 ** _"_** ** _Why isn't anything working?!"_**

 **Old habits die hard** and he once again found himself dozing off. The day had run its course and left him with nothing but a bout of drowsiness. It was dark now, and he couldn't see the moon—or _anything_ really. He hadn't even had his own flashlight; though, he did pick one up before but realized the bulb had been smashed in.  
In his pocket, his fingers fumbled. _'_ _Old habits die hard,'_ he supposed, having wanted to mess with his phone for distraction, light— _anything_. But it had been out of commission for two months now, and he still hadn't figured out why it—along with the car and many other electrical devices—no longer worked. Why the tub had worked when he returned home all those weeks ago, when everything else hadn't.  
' _Maybe,'_ he thought to himself, _'_ _Maybe some secret government agency took over and hacked everything, frizzled our tech.'_ He laughed at himself, knowing it was a silly idea, and he thought someone...he thought his friends would have laughed. But the idea now saddened him as he realized his search had yielded nothing. The tightness in his chest was beginning to return.  
Thunder roared once more as he reclined the seat. He would find them. He would find them and everyone would be alright. _'_ _They'd probably cry,'_ and at that, he couldn't help but smile. They were a bunch of knuckleheads, but, he knew they'd miss him too. So he had to stay alive; he had to keep fighting in this now desolate world. He had to—  
 ** _THUD!_** **  
**Something landed on the roof. Adrenaline ripped through his body, sending prickling sensations all throughout. But he kept still.  
 _'_ _Must be a tree,'_ at least, that's what he hoped. After seeing so many horror movies, he really didn't feel like getting out of the car to go see what it _really_ was. That changed of course, when the car began to creak. He could hear the metal shifting under the weight of something, something _moving_. He shifted to the side, close to the door and trying to see if he could spot anything from the window. A second later and something smashed through the roof _right where he had just been laying_.  
It was… an ugly stick? It was difficult to distinguish its features in the dark, but it looked more or less like a leg. And just as quickly as it had smashed in, the creature retracted. The man was just about to peer through the new sun roof when the beast returned; he wasn't sure what he was looking at this time, but some long piece of flesh writhed in. The stench alone disgusted him enough to back out of the car and fall onto the wet road. And it was there that he could just make out the creatures size—he took note of its six legs and immediately recognized the creature for what it was.  
A crawler.  
The beast hissed at him from inside the car, and the man felt his throat tighten. The storm could have confused the animal, but the dark haired man refused to take any chances. And so he fled, running back to the forest, back to the river, to the path he knew. He might have been able to fight it had he not been in such a weak state, but seeing his friends again were more important than his pride.  
Almost immediately after he began sprinting, the crawler followed suit. Its legs were a tangled mess as it ran, and yet somehow it was catching up. Maybe it's because the poor gentleman was cautious of all the branches and leaves that could so easily trip him in the dark. Maybe it's because he was low on stamina. Regardless of what it may be, the beast was soon upon him, screeching into the night.  
With only one blow, it knocked him over. A painful groan left his lips as he tried to roll away- _tried_. But the creature stood over him, with mouth agape and flashing its teeth, ready to pierce through his skin. The man let out a spiteful _'_ _blech'_ before covering his nose in disdain. _What awful breath it had.  
_ Just as quickly as it knocked him over, the beast lurched forward to take a bite of its victim's flesh. But he would not be taken out so easily; the man kicked it away, having struck the underside of the neck just before teeth would bite into him. It recoiled just long enough for him to crawl away.  
There was no measurable 'safe distance' between he and the crawler, so when it appeared once more to knock him over, it sent him into the river. Water engulfed him, choking him out and disorienting him. With a few kicks he managed to push himself up long enough to gasp for air. The current pushed against his weak muscles, carrying him down the river bend.  
Though unable to enter the water itself, the beast kept pace with the man who was now dangerously moving downstream. It was a wonder how he didn't hit his head on anything when the current picked up.  
A numbing sensation took over in the frigid water temperatures. And though he could not see with the mop of hair covering his face, and the little river particles stinging his eyes, and the river torrent, and the rain, and the dark, he could still sense the crawler; it was still tracking him.  
Or perhaps it was just the adrenaline and anxiety that kept him thinking that way.  
All he could do for the moment was to keep his head above water just long enough for the crawler to leave.  
So he waited and waited; how long was the damn thing going to follow him?  
He couldn't keep his head afloat any longer; the current proved to be too strong and his body too weak. The water pushed him down several times, but he kept fighting, fighting with what little strength he had left. _He was gonna stay alive and see his friend's one more time,_ _ **dammit**_ **.**  
With one final heave, the current pushed him ashore. He looked around briefly- _no monster_ \- before collapsing onto ground. Finally, he rolled over onto his back, staring up at the sky. The clouds had parted and the storm had passed. He could finally see the stars again.  
A few crickets chirped, but the roar of the river drowned out all other sound.  
With a few deep breathes, he chuckled to himself. _Nothing_ would kill him today; and tomorrow he'd sleep in.

The pressing desire that followed afterwards was simply a good night's rest. Exhausted, he rolled over to his side, ready to pass out. Tomorrow, he knew, would be a good day. Tomorrow would-of fuck no. No. **_shIT_**.  
He saw a shadow lurking above him—but he was sure the crawler had lost sight of him. How did it find him _again_?! Maybe it was another-  
 **It didn't matter**. It was back and he had to go. His body tensed once more as he got up to flee, but it couldn't prepare him for what happened next.  
He smacked right into something, leaving a metal **_'_** ** _CLANG!'_** in his wake. Clenched hands grabbed at his forehead, which was now pulsating. When he looked up, he realized the shadow was much larger than before— _so it couldn't possibly be the crawler._  
With outstretched hands, he felt around the shadow, carefully, _slowly_. It was metal… a building maybe. He walked around the sides, letting his hands slide over, enjoying its smooth, glossy touch.  
When he got to what he assumed was the front, several white lights lit behind him. They seemed to have illuminated a pathway that led up to what he now knew **_was_** a building. Still, such simple technology perplexed him; _how were these lights still functioning_?  
He walked up the path, noticing that the front was nothing but two glass doors that slid open when he approached. All of this left him with nothing to say other than,  
 _"_ _The fuck?"_


End file.
